


Powerless

by aeoleus



Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: Anxiety, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Its late and this grate wont come down did this to me, Panic Attacks, The Club, blackout - Freeform, concussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6950710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeoleus/pseuds/aeoleus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sonny was sitting at the counter, reading a magazine when the whole street when dark. For a few seconds, everything was silent; Sonny could hear his own heartbeat steadily increase to match the panic rising in his throat. Then, the screaming began</p>
            </blockquote>





	Powerless

Sonny was sitting at the counter, reading a magazine and humming absently to the Jordin Sparks song playing on the radio when the whole street when dark. For a few seconds, everything was silent; Sonny could hear his own heartbeat steadily increase to match the panic rising in his throat, the magazine growing wet under his tightened grip.

Then, the screaming began.

Something shattered outside, and Sonny scrambled behind the counter, reaching for his cell phone. Normally, Sonny wouldn't ever have used it.

"For emergencies only, Sonny." Usnavi had said sternly, pressing the phone into his hands. His face had softened when he saw the terrified expression on his cousin's face. "When you need me, bro. Call me when you need me."  
He jammed the numbers he knew by heart into the keypad. The dial tone repeated. Repeated.  
"I'm sorry, we cannot process your call at this time, please hang up and-"  
"God _dammit_ " Sonny hissed.

The emergency light finally kicked on, bathing the deserted store in a red glow. Sonny peeked over the counter. It was chaos. People running to and from, stumbling in the darkness. He cringed as a few older boys took a baseball bat to the liquor store's window across the street. The store. He's gotta protect the store. He's gotta lock the door. If they get robbed, Usnavi's gonna-  
"Sonny!" Pete skidded through the door. Sonny yelped and stumbled backwards.  
"What are you doing? We gotta go-"  
"Man, I can't leave, I gotta guard the store!" Sonny's voice cracked.  
Pete grabbed his arm and pulled him up and to the barred window.  
"Do you see this?" He demanded. Rosario's window had been broken, and someone had lit a fire down the street. A high pitched scream pierced the air and Sonny looked away.  
"I-I can't go," Sonny stuttered. "This store's all we got, Pete."  
Pete looked at him, then pulled off his backpack.  
"Okay."

For a few tense minutes, they stood at the door, Sonny armed with a bat and Pete with a Roman candle.  
"Pete..."

Four boys had jumped out of the broken window across the street, arms full of loot.

"Pete!" Sonny grabbed the older boy's sleeve. The boys seemed to have noticed that the store was sparsely protected and were heading straight across the street.

"There's some guys comin', man, we're gonna get jacked up!" Usnavi couldn't afford hospital bills, especially if they robbed the store.

"Get behind me-" Pete pulled a lighter out of his pocket, and pushed Sonny behind him. The group was at the door, fiddling with the padlock.  
"Pete, what are you doing?"  
" _Get behind me!_ "

* * *

 

Sonny doesn't really remember what happened next. All he knows is he's sitting outside the bodega. His left eye is swollen shut and there's blood dripping down his forehead. Police sirens are echoing across the city. They're nothing compared to the drum solo someone's playing on his skull. Where's Usnavi?  
There's a loud screeching next to him. Pete is pulling hard on the grate to the front of the store.  
"It's stuck," He says.  
"Here..." Sonny gets up slowly (he almost falls, but he's okay. Really.) and tries to pull on the grate. Usually, after a combination of swearing at it and jumping while pulling, it descends. But tonight, nothing happens. He pulls again. Just a defiant wail of metal against metal. Sonny can feel tears welling in his eyes, and he disguises it by pulling harder.  
"It won't go." He says.  
"I know, man. Usnavi's gotta fix that." Pete says, crossing his arms.  
"It won't go." Sonny repeats. Nausea is churning his stomach. He wants to go home. It's 3:30 AM. He wants to sleep, with Abeula and Usnavi safe and only a few steps away. He wants to hear the reassuring whir of the AC in his window and see the small safety light in the corner of his room. Where's Usnavi? The grate is stuck, and just because Pete managed to scare away one group of vandals doesn't mean he'll be able to do it again. The grate is stuck, Usnavi's missing, his head really hurts-  
"Whoa, Sonny, you okay?" Sonny can feel Pete's hand on his shaking shoulder.  
"The grate won't come down." Sonny sobs. "It won't come down, Pete. How are we gonna guard the store if it won't come down? It won't come-"  
"Hey!" Pete interrupts, pulling Sonny's hands away from the grate. They're a little scratched from the rust. Sonny wipes the blood in his shorts. "It's okay, dude. I'll guard the store. Sit down. Drink some water."  
Pete guides him to the stoop again.

* * *

 

"SONNY? SONNY!"  
Sonny can hear Usnavi before he can see him. His cousin runs across the street, barely looking for cars with a flashlight in his hands.  
"Ay dios, Sonny, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened here, a tu ojo? Was it Graffiti Pete?" Usnavi jabbers in spitfire Spanglish. He has a black eye forming and his hat is missing, Sonny notes. Usnavi doesn't wait for a response before kneeling down on the concrete and peering at the bruise forming around Sonny's eye.  
"That's not good. You need ice. How did it happen?"  
Usnavi pauses, seeming to have registered Sonny's uncharacteristic silence.  
"Sonny?" He asks tentatively. "Are you alright?"  
That's all it takes. Sonny leans forward and wraps his arms around his cousin, sobbing into his shoulder.  
"You're tired, mijo. You're exhausted. We can deal with the store later. You need to sleep."


End file.
